The Things We Do For Love
by Kerichi
Summary: After her first kiss with Ron, Hermione asks Ginny for advice. What follows is a lesson in the things we do for love. Written before HBP, when the Potterverse wasn't that dreadful shade of Lavender. :D
1. It started with a kiss

Chapter 1- It started with a kiss

-

Outwardly serene, while inwardly butterflies whirled madly in her middle, Hermione Jane Granger put a set of sensible flannel pyjamas into a suitcase and then consulted a list. Scanning the items recorded in precise handwriting, her gaze flickered over the neatly assembled clothing and toiletries already packed into the case.

The organized girl smiled her satisfaction with the job well done until a book sitting on her bedside table caught her eye. Impulsively, she reached over and picked it up. Almost embarrassedly, she slid _The Princess Bride_ underneath the satin robe her pyjamas were packed atop.

Her parents had given her the robe for a Christmas present so she had to bring it along for her sleepover with Ginny. They'd be hurt, otherwise. Her reflection in the dresser mirror looked knowingly back at her. Skin tinting with pink, the girl defiantly told her image, "I am _not_ hoping to run into Ronald wearing it so he can tell me the robe matches my eyes and is smooth as my skin. Stop getting all fluttery over things I'm not thinking about!"

"Hermione, dear, may I come in?"

The sixth year turned away from the dresser and went to open her door. She smiled. "Of course, Mum, I've just finished packing."

Dr. Granger displayed the perfect smile that impressed so many of her patients and held up a small bag. "Not quite. I've made you a little pouch of all our latest dental samples. I know you have those brushing/flossing mints now, but nothing beats circling small, gums and all!"

Hermione took the bag without trying to futilely argue that the scarcity of gum disease in the Wizarding world proved the superiority of magical products. She merely thanked her mother and placed the samples inside her toiletry bag before fastening her suitcase. As they walked downstairs, Hermione said, "I feel selfish, leaving you and Dad by yourselves on New Year's Day. You won't be lonely, will you?"

Jane Granger tucked an unruly strand of brown hair behind her ear and assured, "Oh no, don't worry about me and your father being, erm, lonely. We're looking forward to watching classic films on telly and taking a…_I'm_ going to take a long, hot, bubble bath."

In the foyer, Richard Granger whistled cheerfully while jingling the change in his pockets. He stepped forward to take Hermione's suitcase and give his daughter a kiss on the cheek.

Jane asked, "Dick, did the car start right up? I always worry when we've been on vacation."

Winking at his wife while he opened the front door, the other Dr. Granger replied, "The old engine's revved and raring to go, darling."

Hermione's mum smiled her approval and shooed them out of the house. Nearing a certain area of London, her father parked in a private lot after the attendant verified that their vehicle had the proper M sticker given to non-magical parents of wizards and witches. After he retrieved the luggage from the boot, her dad led the way to Diagon Alley and a public floo. A round of hugs and kisses later, Hermione's Mum said, "We'll meet you back here tomorrow afternoon, 5'oclock sharp, sweetheart. Give the Weasleys our best."

-

After watching their daughter transport via the Floo network to her friends' home in Devon, the couple smiled into each other's eyes. Jane arched an eyebrow. "Revved and raring to go, are you?"

Dick slipped an arm around his wife's waist,

"I'm looking forward to that bubble bath and the privacy to enjoy it."

"Just the tub…?"

Chuckling, the man assured as they retraced their steps to the car. "And the company, love…"

-

On a comfortable old sofa in the lounge of The Burrow, Ronald Bilius Weasley caught his best mate eyeing his drumming fingers and stilled the restless movement. Ron had awakened at the crack of dawn, even though he hadn't gone to sleep until long after midnight. He'd lain in bed, too excited to sleep. A smile had spread across his face at the thought that in a few short hours, Hermione would Floo over.

For months, he had been trying to get up the courage to take a step, make the move from being her friend to becoming her boyfriend. Today, he was finally going to do it- if he could just figure out where to go to be alone.

The unmistakable sound of a person magically arriving in the fireplace brought Ron to his feet. He grinned as Ginny hugged her friend and began talking Hermione's ear off. Harry greeted the girl while Ron stepped forward. Her eyes locked with his.

"Hello Ron," said Hermione, almost shyly.

She stiffened when he wrapped his arms around her in a hug, but then relaxed and hugged him back. They'd never stood quite this close before. Now he knew why. He felt her tremble and knew he'd better step back before he pretended a mistletoe ball was overhead. Not that there would be anything wrong in kissing Hermione under mistletoe, but Ron wanted their first kiss to be special…and private.

Ginny, Hermione, and Harry sat on the sofa and began trading stories of what they'd done over the break so far. Ron sat in a chair opposite and contentedly watched expressions flit across Hermione's face. He wondered when he'd gone from viewing the girl's hair as bushy to thinking it fluffy soft and beautiful. Probably about the same time he'd begun to think her oval face the prettiest at school and that bossy, know-all attitude sexy. Her eyes met his and he didn't care when…Ron was just happy that he'd wised up.

"Earth to Ron, come in Ron. I've asked you twice if you want to play wizard chess."

The amused exasperation in his best mate's voice made him smile. "I heard you. I was just trying to decide whether to make your defeat quick and painless or drawn out and agonising."

Everyone laughed. Ginny stood and declared, "Well, while you two wage war, Hermione and I will go to my room so we can talk about important things…like boys and fashion."

The older girl made a face at hearing the proposed topics of conversation, but dutifully left the room after Ginny took her by the arm and practically dragged her out of the lounge. The males left behind moved to the small games table and set up the chessboard. Harry asked, "Standard shaking of hands, or Gladiator method?"

Ron thought of wanting to toss Hermione over his shoulder and carry her off somewhere. "Gladiator."

Together, the friends and adversaries each lifted a pawn and said before beginning the battle, _"Morituri te salutant! Those who are about to die salute you!"_

_-_

Upstairs, Hermione sat on Ginny's window seat and looked out while the other girl rummaged through her makeup kit. Lifting a slender tube with a cry of triumph, her friend plopped down beside her. "That's Siren Seduction. Won't wear off, and guaranteed to make your lips too tempting to resist. Put some on. I think Ronnie's getting his courage up, and that should give him the final push."

Hermione startled. "I beg your pardon? I don't know what…" Ginny gave her a 'don't even try' look. With a rueful smile, she stared at the lipstick and repeated hopefully, "G_uaranteed_?"

"Take it from me, you won't be asking for your money back."

The girls giggled together until Hermione was struck by the meaning behind the words. "Who have _you_ used it with?"

Ginny's laughter cut off abruptly. She blinked rapidly and said, "What makes you think I've used it with somebody? I didn't say I've tried the lipstick myself, did I? No, I meant that I knew it worked because a friend told me."

Not wanting to make Ginny any more defensive, Hermione refrained from mentioning that in Muggle psychology, when most people said 'friend', they were actually talking about themselves. She raised her hands in a gesture for peace and said, "Alright, calm down, I'll put the lipstick on right now."

Her friend now smiled mischievously, speculating, "I bet Ronnikins forgets that any other girl exists once he sees you all made up."

Hermione went to stand before the wardrobe mirror to apply the lipstick and smooth down hair that had more 'body' than she'd ever wanted. The satisfied glint in her eyes vanished when the last words registered. "What do you mean, _all made up_?"

Ginny waved a brown eyeliner pencil like a wand and patted the stool in front of her dressing table. "Have a seat, and I'll show you."

-

The look on Ronald's face when they came down for lunch made Hermione's breath catch. She was determined to purchase an entire line of cosmetics when she returned home. Logically, she realised that her features hadn't changed. It was just that her eyes, lips, and cheekbones were emphasised in a subtle way that made her look and feel sexier.

She sat across the table from the boy who seemed more interested in eating her up with his eyes than in eating his sandwich and teased, "You allowed Harry beat you in wizard chess? How the mighty have fallen."

Ron did something that made her eyes open wide. He winked. "I was distracted."

His gaze fell to her mouth. She could feel her face heating. Quickly, Hermione took a drink of water to cool down and tried to pay attention to Harry and Ginny's conversation.

The rest of the afternoon seemed to pass agonisingly slow. Every brush of Ron's fingers during the games they played made Hermione long to devise some excuse for them to be alone. She wondered if Ron had ever kissed a girl before.

If he hadn't, then he could be anxious about doing things right. Her heart turned over at the thought. Victor Krum hadn't taught her a whole lot about kissing, but those _Teen Witch_ magazine articles had been most informative and she was brilliant at putting other theories into practise. If it worked with magic, snogging shouldn't be any different.

Hermione almost hugged Ginny when the girl said, "Hey Harry, how about a match of wizard chess with someone who's real competition?"

"You mean Hermione?"

Red tresses were tossed. "Funny, real funny. I was going to have pity on you, but now I'm showing no mercy." Ginny looked from her brother to her friend and smirked. "Go take a walk. Harry's going to lose badly and I don't want you to see a big boy cry."

The couple hurried to throw on their cloaks and head out the back door.

-

Ron could feel his pulse pounding as he held the door for Hermione to precede him outside. This was it. The moment he'd been waiting for. He'd lost the chess match to Harry because he'd been trying to come up with a place they could be alone. Ron had looked out the window and thought of the one spot no one would find them. Hoping she liked it, Ron led Hermione over to a huge oak tree in the side yard.

Hermione deduced that her heart was beating at the same rate it did during an aerobic workout. It was quite interesting, the extreme way the mind affected the body. Ronald's face was set with a determination that caused her pulse to beat faster as he steered her to an oak that had a tree house supported by magic within its branches. She climbed the rungs of the ladder enchanted into the trunk and called down, "Shall I conjure a fire in a tin to warm us?"

He nodded; eyes so electric blue she felt her heart jolt. Backing into the space to allow Ron to enter, she had to try twice to conjure the blue fire. Hermione looked around the cute little clubhouse and tried to remember exactly what those articles had said about first kisses. All she could recall was _'Anticipation makes the first kiss between couples incredibly intense_.'

She didn't need a frivolous teen magazine to tell her _that_! Unfortunately, she had not been aware that intense anticipation short-circuited rational thought. She was unable to think of anything except how much she wanted to feel his mouth moving against hers.

Standing so close to Hermione that he could smell the strawberry scent of her hair, Ron wished he knew a poem or something that would tell her how long and how much he'd wanted to be where he was right now. He looked into her golden-brown eyes and wanted to kiss her so bad it hurt. He didn't know any sonnets and probably couldn't speak anyway, so he didn't even try.

He just smiled, and cupped her cheek with the palm of a hand that had never felt anything as soft as her skin. Gently, he tilted her head and bent to softly brush his lips across hers. Her mouth moved tentatively against his. The kiss was sweet, amazing, and perfect. He wanted to kiss her forever.

Hermione opened her mouth when he ran the tip of his tongue across her bottom lip. He pressed his open mouth to hers but didn't deepen the kiss until she daringly slid her tongue along his. As their embrace intensified, her mind became cloudy. All she could do was clench her fingers into that gorgeous red hair and experience pleasure that made even her best dream pale in comparison.

The reality of the scent of his skin and the taste of his mouth was so much more satisfying than dreams. Hermione's dreamy state ended when she heard a voice calling her name. Ginny and Harry must've finished their game. She wanted to ignore the call and keep snogging, but forced her lips to release Ron's. He looked so adorably bereft she almost kissed him again.

He said, "I've wanted to be with you…like this…for so long."

She pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "Me too."

-

They went back to the house after agreeing it was best to keep their new relationship concealed. They didn't want to be teased, or be gushed over by Molly. For now, they were happy to share a most delicious secret.

Later that night, after a final game of cards, Hermione and Ginny went upstairs to get ready for bed. A glance back at Ron showed him raising one finger, then two, before pointing to the sofa. Pushing back her untameable hair, Hermione nodded. In her stomach, a tugging sensation gave her the sweetest ache. She pressed a hand against her middle as she walked upstairs.

Ginny took one look at her when they reached the bedroom and sang, "Hermione and Ron, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…"

"Don't tell anyone," the blushing girl warned, throwing a pillow. "We want to keep it to ourselves for a bit, enjoy each other without dealing with everybody else's opinion…does that sound selfish?"

"No. I understand exactly how you feel."

Smiling in relief, Hermione got ready for bed. A short while later, the two girls lay quietly in the dark until a thought struck and she inhaled sharply.

"What is it?" asked Ginny.

"I just realised, besides schoolwork and Harry, what do Ron and I really have in common? We can't snog _all _the time…although that sounds good right now. What are we going to _do?_"

A smile threading her voice, her friend answered, "If you'd been here for breakfast, you would've heard Mum play an oldies orb with a song that answered your question. _The Things We Do For Love._"

Hermione had heard that song before. She said, "Walking in the rain, much less the snow, when there's no where to go is illogical. How does that help me?"

Ginny laughed. "You didn't let me get to the relevant-to-you part. It's this: you compromise."

It was embarrassing to have to ask for something to be explained. "What do you mean by compromise?"

The other girl muttered something about 'IQ of Merlin, EQ of a flobberworm' before enlightening, "You compromise by doing something for him…say…learning about Quidditch. Ron will be thrilled and compromise by doing something for you…like…reading a book you want to talk with him about, or listening to your favourite music that puts people to sleep. You both will feel happy and understood and snog like crazy. Sound good?"

Classical music did _not_ put people to sleep, but otherwise, Ginevra's reasoning was sound. Before Hermione could ask, Ginny continued, "_Quidditch Through the Ages_ is a good book. I'll find it for you tomorrow morning."

Hermione didn't tell her friend that she'd tried reading the book before, but it had put her to sleep. She had resolved to try again when the clock struck midnight. Slipping from the bed, Hermione pulled on her satin robe and said, "Actually, I feel like reading for awhile. Where can I find it?"

Ginny snickered. "Third shelf from the bottom in the lounge."

Hermione thanked her and ignored the giggles she received in return before she opened the door and went downstairs to meet Ron.


	2. All I ask of you

Chapter Two- All I ask of you

-

January wasn't the most scenic of months, but Hermione wasn't looking out the window to admire the winter landscape. Instead, the former paragon of time management was sitting at her desk, absently rubbing a lock of hair between her fingers and daydreaming.

_She walked briskly into the Hall during breakfast. At the Gryffindor table, Hermione stopped and asked Harry and Neville, "Where's Ron?" _

_Their eyes looked past her shoulder. Turning, she saw the boy striding toward them. Hermione's heart pounded. Ron's arms supported her shoulders and knees as he swept her out of the chamber. _

_He carried her up flights of stairs to reach the Room of Requirement. Pacing with her still cradled in his arms, Ronald smiled into her eyes before asking her to open the door that materialized in the stone wall. _

_Returning his smile, Hermione turned the handle. Inside, he gently set her on her feet, asking, _"_Is it what you wanted?"_

_Her gaze travelled over the heather covered hills. In the distance, colourful pavilions marked the area where the Highland Games were held. Hermione nodded, admiring the kilt Ron now wore, thanks to the room's magic. She admired the long legs beneath the plaid too._

_A slightly calloused masculine fingertip traced her lips. His heated gaze approved the low, round neckline of her gown. Unable to wait until after they'd danced and enjoyed the Games to have a kiss, Hermione boldly threaded her fingers through fiery locks. _

_She reached up while bringing the boy's head down to hers. The world narrowed to the circle of his arms, the feel of his lips, and the scent and texture of the heather he lowered her onto. Hermione sighed at the sweet ache his body created in hers and…_

"Are you still working on that essay, Granger?"

Hermione deduced that one of her roommates had just asked her a question. Calmly, she decided on a reply that would make it appear that she'd been listening, "Yes."

Apparently, it was the correct one. Julia, an energetic blonde girl, grinned impishly. "Wow, this must be a record or something; you not finished with a measly quarter scroll essay in a half hour. Are you feeling okay?"

Stiffly assuring the girl that she was, Hermione dipped her quill in ink and ruthlessly suppressed the urge to continue the daydream. She had schoolwork to do. After diligently scribing the short essay comparing and contrasting Arithmancy with Muggle Numerology, Hermione rolled up the scroll and tucked the assignment into her school bag.

Her roommates had already left to head toward the Hall for dinner when Hermione left the dorm. She felt relieved not to have to walk with them. It wasn't that she disliked the girls. They were perfectly nice. She just wanted to be alone in order to think.

Descending the girls' staircase, Hermione admitted to herself that ever since Ron had kissed her in the tree house, her life had become somewhat disordered. That struck her as ironic, since they didn't have to sneak around anymore.

Harry had found out that she and Ron were going together. Less than a week after they'd returned from Christmas Holiday, Neville had misread Snape's directions, and botched his 'Elixir of Secrets'. The disastrous potion gone wrong had caused his classmates to blurt their most private thoughts.

Hermione had tried to hold out against the fumes, but it was no use. She'd blurted out that she'd kissed Ron before rushing from the dungeon. Harry told her that afterwards, Ron had confessed to kissing her- lots.

Thankfully, Harry had found the situation funny. He hadn't been mad that his best mates had kept their new closeness hidden. That was a relief. Although she missed the excitement of meeting in secret, it was rather hard to put 'clandestine rendezvous' into an organizer.

It was even more impossible to pencil in spontaneous moments of romance into her daily planner. That played havoc with her formerly clockwork schedule. For example, she might arrange her day and allot an extra fifteen minutes onto patrolling for impulsive snogging with Ron.

_He'd_ want thirty minutes, or even forty-five.

It always seemed like such a good idea at the time. Later, Hermione would notice that she was flossing her teeth to please her mother in the 'brush hair 100 strokes' time slot, or finishing an essay in place of 'six chapters of an intellectually stimulating novel before bed, _not _The Princess Bride.' On each occasion, a panicky feeling overwhelmed her.

Last night, the dichotomy of her life became too much to ignore any longer. While on patrol, her boyfriend had suggested making sure that no one was making out in the Room of Requirement. She'd known no one would be…until after they got there.

Had she gently reminded Ron that he had a Divination essay due? Reasonably suggested an alternative, perhaps that they awaken a half hour earlier in the morning and meet there before breakfast? No, she had not. Instead, she had _giggled _and asked if they could have the Highland Games theme again. It had been after midnight when she'd returned to her dorm. Ronald probably hadn't scribbled one line of his essay, and it was due next week!

Taking a calming breath, Hermione opened the door to the Great Hall. She remembered her daydream and winced. Surely that was all the proof she needed that a dangerous level of emotionality was insinuating itself into her previously well-ordered existence. She had to do something! Determined, she marched down the aisle.

Unfortunately, the sight of Ron laughing with Harry made her intention to discuss the situation melt like a snowflake in the sun.

-

Ron had awakened that morning with a smile on his face that had stayed put all day. It was Friday, Hogsmeade Weekend was tomorrow, and Hermione was his girlfriend. Life didn't get any better than that. Sure, the Chudley Cannons could win the League, Harry could act less temperamental and Snape could get struck by lightning, but he didn't need that stuff to be happy.

He was a simple bloke. He'd even looked up a simple poem, well, poetic line, for Hermione. Okay, maybe he'd done it hoping she'd be impressed and snog him later, but wasn't a need for love the most basic one of all?

At dinner, he kept an eye out for Hermione while trying to cheer Harry up. His best mate was like a malfunctioning broomstick, his moods always swinging up and down. Remembering one of Fred and George's favourite Quidditch curses, he broke into a grin. "Next time Malfoy's trying to grab your broom tail and slow you down, yell this- _Bloody Bollocky Blagging Bastard! _C'mon, give it a practice go. If you wait until he does it, you'll say 'Blastard' for sure. That ruins the whole thing."

Harry was horrid at the tongue twisting imprecation. He couldn't stop putting an 'L' behind the first letter in every word. It was hilarious. While the friends were laughing, Ron saw Hermione. His grin stretched wide. He could tell she'd been trying to smooth her hair down again. He'd have to fluff it out later- with his fingers.

Ron remembered his manners and stood, waiting for his girlfriend to have a seat before sitting beside her on the bench. His friends snickered at his action, but they'd never been pushed against the wall behind Emma the Enchanting and snogged silly on account of their 'sexy good manners' had they? If Mum had told him the real meaning behind that old saying 'virtue is its own reward', he'd have behaved gentlemanly a whole bloody lot sooner!

"Hello, Ron."

Smiling, he wished that he could afford jewels to match Hermione's eyes. Maybe he could work at Weasley Wizard Wheezes over the summer. Realising that he'd been greeted, he said, "Hello, Hermione."

Spotting the wheat rolls she liked, Ron stretched out a long arm to snatch the basket and offer it to his girl. He pointed to the rolls. "A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread, and Thou Beside me..."

Her face lit up. "Omar Khayyam, that's so sweet! Thank you!"

The guys around the table looked more impressed than Hermione with his smooth move. He smirked at Neville silently mouthing the words and then smiled at his girlfriend. They both turned their attention to their food.

These days, Ron made a real effort to break the habits instilled by a lifetime of eating with brothers who talked around a mouthful of food to get a word in at the dinner table. Chicken hanging out the side of his mouth might seem funny to Fred and George, but it didn't amuse the girl beside him. Nor did it make her want to kiss him.

A snicker brought his attention to green eyes glinting with laughter. Did his pal find him using a linen serviette instead of his sleeve entertaining? _Accidentally_ jabbing Harry in the side with his elbow, hard, Ron asked, "Do you want to go to the library after dinner, 'Mione?"

She nodded in her cutely serious and seriously cute way. "Yes, I do. I want to check out a book and talk with you about something."

-

On the way to the library, their shoulders brushed when he leaned down to covertly sniff soft tresses. He wasn't stealthy enough, because Hermione teasingly demanded, "Are you _sniffing_ my hair?"

He grinned. "Yeah. I think all that time we spent with Sirius rubbed off." Manoeuvring her over against the wall, he bent and playfully snuffled her neck and face before taking a deep whiff of her hair and informing the giggling girl, "The smell of strawberries makes me howl. Ah-wooo!"

"I always knew you were a mutt, Weasley."

Malfoy stood nearby with his sniggering cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. The goons were conditioned to laugh every time the Slytherin smirked, and the git had the nerve to call _him_ a dog. The pressure of Hermione's fingers asked Ron not to do something rash, like choke the git with his bare hands. For her, he ignored the slur and started to walk away.

Behind them, the sneering prat had to keep running his mouth, "I suppose if he's a mutt, boys, that makes Granger his…OW! You hexed me, you psychopathic weasel! Wait until I tell Snape you used your wand outside class. For a Stinging Hex, you'll have detention so long…"

The scowling boy stalked toward the dungeons, muttering threats, toadies scurrying to keep up. Hermione smiled. "Malfoy's not as smart as he likes to think he is. Snape said just the other day in Potions that if he doesn't see it, he doesn't want to hear about it. I think the professor's getting tired of Slytherins running to him when they should solve their own problems."

Ron scoffed, "_Right_…He wants them to start hexing us, more like."

She pulled him into motion with an 'honestly Ronald' look on her face, but he knew she was putting on a front. Her lips were twitching. Inside the library, Hermione started acting nervous, not meeting his eyes and taking her time reaching a bookcase in the back right corner of the enormous chamber. She took a slim green volume off the bottom shelf.

Ron lifted an eyebrow. "I thought you already read _Quidditch Through The Ages_?" He took the book. Pointing to the list of borrowers, he said, "See? You checked it out after me and before Harry."

Hermione shook her head, looking miserable. She took a deep breath. In a small voice, she confessed, "I checked it out…but…I didn't read it."

He almost teased her that he was gobsmacked there was a book in the library she hadn't read, but the expression on her face stopped him. She looked embarrassed.

Hermione said, "I tried to read it, really I did. It was just so…so _boring_…and I didn't want to learn about the evolution of the broomstick, or the changes in the game since the fourteenth century. I'm sorry."

Seamus' last girlfriend hadn't looked that upset when she'd admitted to cheating on the bloke with his Potions partner. It was almost funny, but Ron knew better than to smile. He'd seen his dad get kicked to the couch for making light of his mother's feelings. Arthur's son was smart enough to learn from his father's mistakes.

The best thing he could do was look sympathetic and to wait for her to tell him exactly why she'd shared that bit of information. Personally, he didn't care if she ever read the bloody book. He'd just skimmed it himself, concentrating on the part about the Cannons and the description of their glory days back before 1892, when they won the league _twenty five arse kicking times._

To encourage his girlfriend to open up, Ron did what Bill once said helped with Fleur. He held her hands in his. She smiled. "I want to read this book _now _so I can understand why Quidditch is so important to you."

That was nice, but he could've told her the simple truth. He was a guy. It was a cool sport. It was fun to play and almost as much fun to watch. End of story. Ron had a feeling Hermione was looking for some kind of deeper, philosophical reason, though. If she found one, he was willing to let her think that was his motivation if it made her happy.

His girl had another confession to make, "There's something else…" Hermione said, "I want you, just for tomorrow, to use a day planner with me. If you give it a chance, I think you'll see how time management makes the day go better and maximises our enjoyment."

Feeling like that bobble-head Viktor Krum figure he'd had fourth year- before the arm mysteriously got ripped off, Ron kept nodding, saying agreeably, "Sure. That's fine with me." She looked so pleased, he couldn't laugh. Instead, he said smilingly, "I know what would maximize our enjoyment right now."

-

Hermione had never thought of herself as the type to snog in a library, but at the moment, it seemed the only logical thing to do. While his mouth moved over hers, she thought, _How interesting that his lips are firm and soft at the same time. It's such a lovely paradox. Almost as much a contradiction as calloused fingertips that should feel rough against my skin feeling good instead…like a lick from Crookshanks. Best not to share that imagery- he's still not overly fond of my cat. _

Her thoughts scattered when Ron's tongue slipped between her lips. She'd never been fully kissed before they'd come together on New Year's. Hermione smiled inwardly at her former idea that a deeper, more intimate exploration of a boy's mouth would be _unpleasant_. Maybe with someone else it would be, but with Ronald, the experience was breathtaking.

"_Miss Granger! Mr. Weasley! Cease that inappropriate display at once!"_

The awful tones of the librarian reminded Hermione of those ominous warnings pasted into books. _The consequences will be as awful as it is within my power to make them._ She looked at Ron. His eyes were imploring her to think of something fast and get them out of this mess.

Hermione met Irma Pince's narrowed gaze and said, "Madam Pince, It's not what it looks like. Ronald was _rescuing_ me. Something at dinner…allergic reaction…toxic shock syndrome…strikes without warning…" She said earnestly, "I was unable to breathe. He kindly gave me mouth-to-mouth resuscitation." Turning to Ron, Hermione exclaimed, "You saved my life!"

Ron looked torn between alarm and laughter. Hermione had to look away to keep her composure. The librarian nervously fingered her vulture-like neck and repeated, "Something at dinner…most likely the bouillabaisse. French food is not to be trusted, with all those sauces covering who knows what." The bony woman stated, "Since you have always behaved with utmost propriety _before_, Ms. Granger, I will take you at your word. Go straightaway to the infirmary and allow Madam Pomfrey to make sure that your condition does not worsen."

Hermione asked, "May I check out a book first?"

The stern, beaky features softened. "Of course you may."

-

After a quick stop at the infirmary for a stomach upset remedy, just in case Pince checked, the couple returned to Gryffindor house. Inside the common room, small groups worked on preparations for the Hogsmeade Weekend party the following night. Hermione waved to Harry and Colin. As Ron walked her to the girls' staircase, he said, "You really were amazing back there. You had _me_ worrying that you had that toxic shock whatever

"Thank you."

She was just about to say goodnight when Ron took a deep breath and blurted, "Tomorrow night, at the party...I was wondering… Even if they never play a slow song, will you slow dance with me anyway?"

Hermione felt her heart turn over at his request. Before she darted up the stairs, she answered with words that expressed more than Ron realised,

"_As You Wish"_

_-_

* * *

- 

A/N- All right, I admit it, I'm a hopeless Princess Bride fan, and want every reader to become a romance junkie along with me! C'mon, who can resist the part where Buttercup realises that when Westley said 'As you wish', what he really meant was 'I love you'!


	3. All's Well That Ends Well

Chapter 3- All's Well That Ends Well

-

Hermione felt the warm morning rays bathe her face and smiled. She never closed her bed curtains on Hogsmeade Weekends. There was no time for lazing the day away.

She hummed while she made the bed and retrieved clothing, disregarding the sleepy grumbles of roommates while closing her trunk with a snap. Inside the bathroom, Hermione disrobed and neatly folded her discarded clothes, singing softly, "_Weasley is our King_."

It was hard to ignore the pillows her roommates threw when she came back into the room. Hermione smiled and tossed them back, leaving before the girls could return fire.

Briskly descending the girls' staircase and ascending the boys', Hermione quietly opened the door to Ron's dorm. Everyone seemed to be asleep. The bed hangings were all drawn. She tiptoed to her boyfriend's bedside and parted the curtains.

Fully intending to reach out and gently shake Ron's shoulder, she gave in to an irresistible impulse at the last second and kissed him.

-

When he felt a kiss, Ron smiled. He was having the most brilliant dream. During a match against Slytherin, he kept all the Quaffles out until Harry had snatched the Snitch. Afterwards, Ron had flown to the stands and Hermione had leaned out to snog him, breathless.

Ron slowly opened his eyes to smile at Hermione. His eyes grew wide. She wasn't a dream!

Behind them, Harry said, "What's going on?"

Ron thought that should be obvious, but he said, "Erm, Hermione was just…waking me up."

Across the room, Seamus grumbled, "Wish a girl would _wake me up_ like that!"

Thankful that no one but Harry could see them, Ron sat up. He hastily grabbed his robe and put it on before saying as casually as possible, "Okay, right, thanks, 'Mione, I'm awake now, so I'll go grab a shower and meet you downstairs, all right?"

Dignified despite her pink face and disordered hair, Hermione nodded and regally swept out of the room. The instant the door closed, Seamus and Dean started sniggering.

Harry adjusted his glasses and said, "Better tell Hermione not to wake you up with kisses anymore."

Remembering the 'dream', Ron just grinned and moved to grab clothes from his trunk. When Seamus continued to heckle him, Ron smilingly told him to shut it…or else. The room grew quiet.

Ron headed for the shower, whistling.

-

In the common room, Hermione was sitting on a sofa, trying unsuccessfully not to fidget. Crossing and uncrossing her denim clad legs, her arms, and once, briefly, her eyes, she attempted to forget about the scene upstairs. Why had she given in to the impulse to wake Ron with a kiss? Chaos was the result.

Only Merlin knew what Harry thought. Hermione frowned. Seamus and Dean had not seen anything, so why had they awakened? A sudden realisation made her blush. When he had touched her, had she _moaned_?

A short while later, Ron came down and joined her on the sofa. His wide smile made her feel less awkward. He was obviously looking forward to a well-organized day.

Holding the day planner in her lap, she smiled and said, "I learnt the position of Keeper has existed since the thirteenth century, although the role of the Keeper has changed over time- simplifying from moving all over the pitch and scoring goals to remaining mostly within the scoring areas and concentrating on the prevention of goals."

Hermione felt a warm glow of pride at the stunned expression on Ron's face. She had wanted to impress him with her knowledge of his Quidditch position, and she had obviously succeeded.

A gleam appeared in the bright blue eyes staring into hers. He smiled and leaned forward, kissing her cheek. Hermione was _not_ disappointed Ron had not kissed her lips. She was pleased at his restraint.

Hermione thought Ron would say, 'That's great, 'Mione, now what does the planner say we should do first?' but he did not. She was a bit disappointed, but realised the chronically unorganised could not be expected to immediately embrace time management.

She had to be patient. Once Ron found out for himself how nice life was with everything planned and orderly, then he would show interest. Until then, she had enough enthusiasm for both of them.

Opening the planner, she pointed to the day's date and said, "We should be leaving for the Great Hall. The schedule allows exactly one hour for a leisurely breakfast before we go on to our next event of the day."

Long red strands fell into Ron's eyes when he nodded. She brushed them back, taking pleasure in the texture. Reluctantly, Hermione stood instead of continuing to play with his hair. Holding hands, they made their way to the Great Hall.

-

Ron admired the dainty way Hermione ate a Belgian waffle while he demolished a rack of toast, a mound of eggs, and a pile of bacon. Wiping his hands on a linen serviette, he said, "I don't think I've ever been awake this early on a Saturday. We are almost the only ones here. The silence is eerie." Winking at her, he asked, "Is there a reason we're early birds, like you wanted to get in some snogging?"

Judging by the expression on Hermione's face, Ron knew finding a secluded alcove, or visiting The Room of Requirement, was not why she had awakened him with a kiss this morning. He tried to smile as if he had been joking.

Earlier, when she had spouted that Keeper stuff from _Quidditch Through the Ages_, Ron had been flabbergasted…and flattered. Since his girl cared so much, he would be happy to comply with Hermione's request and plan his day. He just hoped she did not go round telling everyone what they were doing. His mates would never let him live it down.

Ron watched golden-brown eyes glow with zeal and refused to panic.

Hermione informed him brightly, "We're going to spend a couple of hours in the library this morning- doing whatever assignments are due in your case and some extra credit work in mine. Ready?"

Should he answer that honestly? Fred and George's faces flashed into mind. They shook their heads wildly, mouthing 'NO!'

Ron chuckled. "Yeah," he said, slipping his arm around Hermione's waist. He slung her schoolbag over his shoulder with barely a wince, cheerfully giving up the idea of a third helping of breakfast to escort his girlfriend to the library.

One nice thing about the weekends was that the vulture queen Madam Pince was off duty. A sweet-looking old ghost named Miss Marple staffed the desk, currently engrossed in a novel.

Hermione said with a smile, "My grandmother enjoys Agatha Christie mysteries, too."

The ghost said, "That's nice dear," and returned to reading her book. She waved her fingertips to turn the pages.

The couple strolled toward the back of the chamber and found a table by a window. Ron looked on as Hermione unpacked several rolls of parchment and a couple of inkpots. She placed them neatly beside his History of Magic and Divination texts.

She consulted the planner and told him the exact assignments due. He had forgotten about the history essay. Ron gave the window and the far off Quidditch pitch a wistful glance before settling down to work.

Two hours later, he had finished the final assignment due next week. Tomorrow, he wouldn't have to worry about a thing. He smiled. This early slogging was not so bad. It sure made Hermione happy. She seemed to shine with a sense of accomplishment.

While they re-packed the schoolbag, she announced, "We'll go back to our dorms and get ready to go to Hogsmeade. I'll meet you down in the common room in precisely thirty minutes."

Teasingly, he asked, "Should we synchronise our watches?"

Her giggle made him chuckle before he insisted, "No, really, should we?"

"Yes, let's."

-

Back in her dorm, Hermione pulled on a jumper, took a deep breath, and reached for the brown eyeliner in her woefully small cosmetic bag. Pleased with the results, she dusted her face with powder, slicked on some lip-gloss and hurried downstairs. Ron was waiting. She appreciated his punctuality almost as much as his admiring smile.

Standing in line to show their passes to Filch, she leaned close and whispered, "I scheduled Honeydukes first."

Red brows waggled. He said, "Sweets for the sweet?"

It was hard to refrain from a public display of affection, but Hermione succeeded. Ron's little sister and Colin Creevey were right behind them in line. It would not set a very good example to younger students if prefects started kissing in public- or maybe it would, if done properly…thoroughly…

Ron noticed the way her gaze dropped to his mouth and asked, "What are you thinking about?"

She knew her pink cheeks answered his question, and if there had been a statue anywhere nearby… Unfortunately, they were stuck waiting while Filch closely examined every pass and Mrs. Norris yowled at the students she disliked. The cat sounded like she was in her death throes when Ron and Hermione passed.

In the village, Ron bounded to the door of Honeydukes and opened it with a flourish. Hermione laughed softly, entering the sweet shop. They headed for the chocolate section. As always, there were baskets of samples waiting for students to try, become addicted to, and buy in bulk. She looked forward to testing them with Ron.

-

Ron could not decide which he enjoyed more; feeding Hermione chocolate or having her feed him. He loved licking her fingertips, but having his sucked clean was amazing too. Choosing not to decide, he just enjoyed the sweet experience.

After Honeydukes, Hermione told him she did not need to consult the planner. She had their itinerary memorised. Ron heaved a sigh of relief. Neville and his girlfriend had just passed by, and if Hermione had been reading from the planner in that carrying voice of hers, their friend would have heard…and repeated…everything. Humouring was one thing, being razzed by his mates was another. Ron looked sideways and reconsidered. It would be worth a joke or two at his expense to keep that glow of satisfaction on Hermione's face.

They explored Zonko's, happily sneering when they found knock-offs of Fred and George's creations. Afterwards, they visited The Sound of Music. The Austrian bloke who ran the place looked up when they entered, calling, "GUTEN TAG!" over loud Polka music.

Ron waved, following Hermione to the classical music section. She picked up an Orpheus Orb. "This is one of my favourite composers," she said. "Let's go listen."

After they stepped into one of the soundproof listening booths, Hermione set the orb on a shelf and gave it a spin. The magical sphere began to glow. Music filled the space.

Ron's face lit up. "Hey, I've heard that before!"

"Where?" Hermione asked excitedly.

"Dad took me to work one day- we went to a Muggle building. I heard this inside a lift!"

"Are you comparing a classic to _lift music_ Ronald?"

Bollocks. He had thought to impress her, but she looked indignant, not admiring. Thinking fast, he offered, "It was a really posh lift."

Hermione smiled. Feeling as though he had dodged a hex, Ron said, "Want to listen to the new Weird Sisters orb?"

"Yes."

Ron felt relieved there was something they could both listen to and enjoy. They spent the next half hour discussing which songs were their favourites before moving on to their next destination.

-

Hermione led the way through several more shops, enjoying Ron's company as much as the shopping. His cheerful following of her plan made her feel all warm inside. She smiled as she crossed the street to her favourite shop, Buy the Book.

The owner, Madam Fowl, always greeted customers with a bright smile, although sometimes she grumbled about Flourish and Blotts' unfair monopoly on textbooks. Hermione was sympathetic, but she enjoyed the wide variety of first and second-hand books too much to mind the lack of textbooks.

Hermione loved the smell of books. She loved the words in books, which reminded her of something her mum always said. _Love is a verb, darling. Show it in actions, not just words_.Inside the bookshop, she halted suddenly. Were Ron's actions his way of showing her how much he cared? How could she show him her feelings in return?

"Any book in particular that you're looking for?"

The inquiring expression on Ron's face snapped Hermione out of her reverie. Shaking her head, her eyes scanned the shop and focused on the upper floor. She nodded decisively.

"No or yes, which is it?" Ron sounded amused.

Smiling ruefully, she admitted, "I just thought of something I need from upstairs. Come with me?"

Her heart began to pound as they climbed the stairs. Luckily, the top floor was deserted. Most students hung out down in the café area of the shop. At the far end of the last row of shelves, Hermione saw Ron look askance at the reference books. Her boyfriend knew that the likelihood of her needing a thesaurus was unlikely and improbable. He asked, "What do you need back here?"

Her lips curved. He cleared his throat. She stepped forward. "Spontaneity."

"Er…say again?"

His back was against the bookshelves. What an inspiring sight, Hermione thought. Reaching up to play with the hair she had foolishly backed away from earlier, Hermione whispered, "Impulsiveness…"

Slender fingertips tracing his lips seemed to have impaired Ronald's ability to speak. She smiled. "Just because I'm organised, responsible, and manage time wisely doesn't mean I can't be spontaneous." Rising up on tiptoes, she murmured against his lips, "Alter plans to do what comes naturally…"

Kissing Ron felt as natural as breathing. Expressing feelings should be just as easy, right? It was not. Hermione could boldly explore Ron's mouth, but his heart was another matter entirely. There were too many 'what ifs.' What if she was serious and he was not? What if she wanted to date exclusively and he thought they should date other people?

His hands were sliding down her back, gripping her hips, pulling her closer. Hermione had no problems with physical attraction. Chemistry was a biological and enjoyable factor in their relationship. The emotional, illogical aspect was what caused her to worry and hesitate. Some bold Gryffindor she was.

-

The sensation of her tongue rolling with his was becoming a bit too stimulating. Ron's body was starting to flush and it was time to step back…er…forward…around…_away_. Gently, he grasped Hermione's shoulders and gingerly put some much-needed distance between them.

She made a sound of protest, lips clinging in a way that made it hard to be good. Was the girl not the one that was supposed to keep the relationship out of dodgy areas? Ron thought Bill did not know as much about women as he said he did. Resolutely, he turned toward the opposite shelf, blindly staring at the books until he was calm…or at least calmer.

Ron exhaled slowly and then turned to Hermione. "So…what was scheduled next?"

She stopped trying to smooth down her fluffy hair and said, "Lunch at The Three Broomsticks, but…we don't have to stick to the plan. Where would you like to eat?"

Ron stared. His girl was giving up her sacred day planner for him. He did not know what to say, so he lifted her off the floor in a hug that had her gasping, "Air, please?"

He laughed, setting Hermione down to ask, "How about the Bludger?"

"Okay."

The rest of the day passed in a pleasant blur for Ron. They wandered around down by the Shrieking Shack after lunch. The memory of the look of fright on Malfoy's face, when an invisible Harry had pelted him with mud made Ron laugh. Sharing the memory with Hermione made her laugh too.

On the way back to school, his girl darted off the path, into the woods. "What're you doing 'Mione?" Ron called.

She replied from the cover of the trees, "Playing hide and seek."

This was a game that Ron had played loads of times before. The thrill was completely different, however, when he snuck up behind Hermione and said, "Got you!"

She threw her arms around his neck. "No, I've got _you." _

_-_

While getting ready for the house party later, Hermione's words kept echoing in Ron's mind. Blue eyes stared impatiently back at him from the bathroom mirror. Would it really be so hard to admit to his girlfriend that she did have him, and his heart? He scowled at the hair his agitated fingers had rumpled and reached for a comb.

Standing beside Harry, listening to blokes good-naturedly debate the best pro Quidditch teams, Ron saw a girl descend the staircase and stared. Hermione looked different. She was always pretty, but tonight, in a little black dress, she was hot. He went to meet her.

"Ron…you look nice."

The way she faltered and blushed gave Ron confidence to say, "You look beautiful. Would you care to dance?"

He followed her gaze to see housemates standing, sitting, talking, even snogging, but no one was dancing. The music was one of those Weird Sisters tunes that were heavy on the bagpipes. He smiled in relief when she said, "Sure."

Ron steered Hermione to a shadowed corner of the room before taking her into his arms and starting to sway. After a few moments, he looked down and blurted, "You know, what you said earlier, in the woods, well, you do."

Her fingers stilled their sifting through his hair. Ron took a deep breath and said, "I don't care if you know about Quidditch, even though it's cool, and I don't care about being organised, although it wasn't as hard as I thought. I only care about being with you."

Ron felt his heart leap when Hermione said, "I only care about being with you too." When his arms came around her, she returned his hug, holding him tight.


End file.
